Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Wayback Machine.
Camping has been part of my life since I was 14 years old or so. Jerry and I got our start right around then. Our First camping trip was in a little patch of woods on his neighbor’s property. It was fairly close to some power lines and I think the exposure to the Electro Magnetic energy coming off those suckers altered our brain in some way, because I’ve been crazy about camping ever since. That and the woods were infested with flying baked beans. But that’s a story for another time.
Soon we began to invite my cousin Paul. Paul also had a great place for camping. His family had right around 160 acres we would camp on. They had a nice lake complete with island. Many summer nights were spent under the stars between Jerry and Paul’s places. Before it was all over we would sometimes have 7 or 8 guys out there having a good time. Then we graduated to Mountain camping.
Our first trip to the mountains happened in the summer of 1988. Jerry had joined the Navy after school and this was our good bye trip. Due to an unfortunate domestic dispute Paul was unable to attend. We went up and had a great time in what is now our “back up site”. That summer Jerry went and learned everything there is to know about submarines and I met Pete.
Pete had bumped paths with us throughout high school but we didn’t become friends until after school. We met Kevin soon as well, and before you knew it we were all camping down at Paul’s place.
Soon Paul joined the Navy, and Pete the Marines. Kevin went to school. I went to work. Kevin, Carl and I made a few trips to the mountains and made some memories that will last a life time or at least until I have one to many beers. One of these trips we learned that you should never let Carl provide the meat. He brought up some 3 year old deer meat that messed up everyone in camp. We only had 1 tent and it was pretty bad in there by the end of the trip.
In the late summer of 1994 Jerry got out of the Navy. We began to camp again. We would go down to his dad’s place a cut down 3 or 4 trees. Drag them up to the fire pit we’d built. It was lined with concrete slabs that had once been a sidewalk. There we would strip the limbs from the trees, cut the trunks into 4 or 5 foot lengths and stack tem neatly to the side. A few weeks later we would all get together on a Friday night and spend the evening drinking beer and burning trees. It was good times.
The following year Pete got out of the Marines. We all made a bee line for the hills. It was Carl, Doug, Jerry, Kevin, Pete, and I on that trip. On this trip Pete invented the Death March. For the uninformed a Death March involves lots of beer and lots of walking. Usually up hill in the woods.
On the trips that followed we made more Death Marches and had some great times. By 1997 most of us had settled down and gotten married. Those of us who didn’t have kids yet were well on their way to doing so. But at least once a year we made it camping.
It was one of these trips my dad came up to visit. We had started a pot of Death Chili. and before we knew it was time for another death march. We started up the hill. Dad stayed behind a stirred the pot while Jerry took a nap. (He was Hammered) Pete Kevin and I started up the mountain. We had made it about 25 feet from the road and 100 feet up and we looked down. Jerry had woken up and was staggering around the fire. Dad was standing behind him with a hand ready to grab his belt if he should happen to fall in. Soon after, Dad began to accompany us on our trips. I guess he wanted to keep us from becoming dead, or worse.
Then in November of 2005 Paul, was stationed relatively near by and was able to make a trip up. On this trip we got our Name, the Legion of Doom. It all started innocently enough. Carl, Jerry, Kevin, Paul, Pete, and I all made it up from our group. Dad had invited the rest of The Professionals. The Professionals are Dads camping buddies. They are named that because the have a very elaborate camping set up with tons of cool camping gear.
Dad made us all stand together for a group picture since this was the first, and to date only time all of us were there together. He took a look at the shot, smiled and said It’s the Legion of Doom, later that night we would confirm his statement.
We brought along a keg of beer and by Saturday it was a bit on the empty side. So Kevin and I headed to Wal-Mart to buy some back up. When we returned Jerry, Pete, Carl and Paul were all playing Drunk Shoes. It appeared to be working pretty well as Paul was quite plastered. Kevin and I quickly worked to catch up but try as we might, we could not pass Paul.
With the Drunk Shoes game over and Paul on the verge of a purge, we headed down to the creek. There is a nice sized pool at the end of the campsite. When there is lots of water it may be waist high at it’s deepest point. We all hopped in and were mostly shocked into sobriety by the 50 degree water. But Paul had been throwing more creekers than ringers and was in need of some more self induced hypothermia to clear his head.
So we stomped the creek. I think he may have made 4 trips up and down the creek. When he got done his lips were blue but his head was clear.
We had a nice dinner of beer and BBQ pork with a side of beer. By the time our bellies were full and our brains were beginning to buzz the sun had called it a day and severe case of “dark” had broke out. It was now time to get the fire back to something I was not ashamed of.
Our fires never really go out anymore. We camp in the spring. When we return in the fall it just takes a little coaxing to get it going again. Evidently our fires have melted the crust of the earth down into the mantel to form a reverse volcano. When we camp it comes back to life and some small Asian island nation has another national catastrophe. Yin and Yang. When we leave it goes dormant a bit they rebuild their huts and 6 months later we all repeat. But it never really dies. It works out pretty well on our end.
Our fire had died down a bit. It was taking 3 minutes to melt a beer can which is completely unacceptable, so I set about to stoke it back up. Just for the record a can should never land in a fire intact. They should actually splatter when they hit wood. As they have melted in mid air. Preferably they should vaporize on the way in, to form a hard dull gray finish on the nearby trees that is bug resistant.
Once I was satisfied with the fire I placed a sheet of plywood standing on edge on the side of the fire. I decided to hack a few eye holes in it. Next came a nose and a jagged mouth. All this time someone was encouraging me onward, I’m pretty sure it was my dad but I could be mistaken. The first Drunk-O-Lantern was born.
It had flames licking out all its orifices but it could still be better. So I grabbed a full, 1 pound propane tank and slipped it behind the ply wood. I was hoping the safety valve would be pointing out the mouth or nose and it would breathe a 15 foot long jet of blue-yellow flame.
It was turned the wrong way and the flame did not make it out the mouth, right then. I looked around and noticed that everyone was now hiding behind trees and trucks. Every one that is, except Jerry and me. So being a prudent young man I hid behind someone hiding behind a truck. We told Jerry to move but he replied “Seen this before, ain’t nothing to worry ‘bout.” In fact he had seen it several times and each time it was equally disappointing. But tonight, he was in for a treat.
Dad snapped a picture of the Drunk-O-Lantern and a few seconds later the safety valve said “The hell with this!” there was a very loud boom, complete with shock wave. Our fire was blown out and a churning 30 foot tall mushroom cloud of burning propane and ash was reaching skyward.
Jerry calmly got up and left. I think Dad said for the 3 millionth time “My God I’ve spawned an idiot!” and everyone checked themselves to make sure they were still intact. After we verified that our “boys” were still where they belonged and that in fact, our pants were, not full of poo, we began to dodge the hunks of fire wood that were raining down upon us. If you had looked up it would have reminded you of the closing credits from the “Buck Rogers” series in the early 80’s. We stomped those little suckers to death and the bigger pieces we put back into the now dark fire pit. Next we heard a tinny “clank” as the remnants of the propane cylinder returned to terra firma.
It took minimal coaxing to get the fire back in shape. The Drunk-O-Lantern was shot though. Where the face once was there was now a 3 foot wide hole. And I vowed never to drop a full, 1 pound, green, Ozark Trail, short squat, propane tank in a fire again.
We’ve been the Legion of Doom ever since, and we have the T-Shirts to prove it. Our Ranks have grown to include The Professionals. This works out pretty well, since they seem to have more sense than we do. And they can cook very well. They cook the grub and we don’t blow any one or anything up and provide comic relief. They also stop us from doing anything completely stupid like driving our trucks through the creek or Running Ranger Dan off the mountain. It work’s out pretty good.
So, this fall we’re about to gather to indulge in some more cold beverages, great food, and low brow humor. And just maybe a few stupid campfire tricks for old times sake.
I do have some full 1 pound Coleman propane tanks and some tall skinny blue ones laying around…Hmm
Soon we began to invite my cousin Paul. Paul also had a great place for camping. His family had right around 160 acres we would camp on. They had a nice lake complete with island. Many summer nights were spent under the stars between Jerry and Paul’s places. Before it was all over we would sometimes have 7 or 8 guys out there having a good time. Then we graduated to Mountain camping.
Our first trip to the mountains happened in the summer of 1988. Jerry had joined the Navy after school and this was our good bye trip. Due to an unfortunate domestic dispute Paul was unable to attend. We went up and had a great time in what is now our “back up site”. That summer Jerry went and learned everything there is to know about submarines and I met Pete.
Pete had bumped paths with us throughout high school but we didn’t become friends until after school. We met Kevin soon as well, and before you knew it we were all camping down at Paul’s place.
Soon Paul joined the Navy, and Pete the Marines. Kevin went to school. I went to work. Kevin, Carl and I made a few trips to the mountains and made some memories that will last a life time or at least until I have one to many beers. One of these trips we learned that you should never let Carl provide the meat. He brought up some 3 year old deer meat that messed up everyone in camp. We only had 1 tent and it was pretty bad in there by the end of the trip.
In the late summer of 1994 Jerry got out of the Navy. We began to camp again. We would go down to his dad’s place a cut down 3 or 4 trees. Drag them up to the fire pit we’d built. It was lined with concrete slabs that had once been a sidewalk. There we would strip the limbs from the trees, cut the trunks into 4 or 5 foot lengths and stack tem neatly to the side. A few weeks later we would all get together on a Friday night and spend the evening drinking beer and burning trees. It was good times.
The following year Pete got out of the Marines. We all made a bee line for the hills. It was Carl, Doug, Jerry, Kevin, Pete, and I on that trip. On this trip Pete invented the Death March. For the uninformed a Death March involves lots of beer and lots of walking. Usually up hill in the woods.
On the trips that followed we made more Death Marches and had some great times. By 1997 most of us had settled down and gotten married. Those of us who didn’t have kids yet were well on their way to doing so. But at least once a year we made it camping.
It was one of these trips my dad came up to visit. We had started a pot of Death Chili. and before we knew it was time for another death march. We started up the hill. Dad stayed behind a stirred the pot while Jerry took a nap. (He was Hammered) Pete Kevin and I started up the mountain. We had made it about 25 feet from the road and 100 feet up and we looked down. Jerry had woken up and was staggering around the fire. Dad was standing behind him with a hand ready to grab his belt if he should happen to fall in. Soon after, Dad began to accompany us on our trips. I guess he wanted to keep us from becoming dead, or worse.
Then in November of 2005 Paul, was stationed relatively near by and was able to make a trip up. On this trip we got our Name, the Legion of Doom. It all started innocently enough. Carl, Jerry, Kevin, Paul, Pete, and I all made it up from our group. Dad had invited the rest of The Professionals. The Professionals are Dads camping buddies. They are named that because the have a very elaborate camping set up with tons of cool camping gear.
Dad made us all stand together for a group picture since this was the first, and to date only time all of us were there together. He took a look at the shot, smiled and said It’s the Legion of Doom, later that night we would confirm his statement.
We brought along a keg of beer and by Saturday it was a bit on the empty side. So Kevin and I headed to Wal-Mart to buy some back up. When we returned Jerry, Pete, Carl and Paul were all playing Drunk Shoes. It appeared to be working pretty well as Paul was quite plastered. Kevin and I quickly worked to catch up but try as we might, we could not pass Paul.
With the Drunk Shoes game over and Paul on the verge of a purge, we headed down to the creek. There is a nice sized pool at the end of the campsite. When there is lots of water it may be waist high at it’s deepest point. We all hopped in and were mostly shocked into sobriety by the 50 degree water. But Paul had been throwing more creekers than ringers and was in need of some more self induced hypothermia to clear his head.
So we stomped the creek. I think he may have made 4 trips up and down the creek. When he got done his lips were blue but his head was clear.
We had a nice dinner of beer and BBQ pork with a side of beer. By the time our bellies were full and our brains were beginning to buzz the sun had called it a day and severe case of “dark” had broke out. It was now time to get the fire back to something I was not ashamed of.
Our fires never really go out anymore. We camp in the spring. When we return in the fall it just takes a little coaxing to get it going again. Evidently our fires have melted the crust of the earth down into the mantel to form a reverse volcano. When we camp it comes back to life and some small Asian island nation has another national catastrophe. Yin and Yang. When we leave it goes dormant a bit they rebuild their huts and 6 months later we all repeat. But it never really dies. It works out pretty well on our end.
Our fire had died down a bit. It was taking 3 minutes to melt a beer can which is completely unacceptable, so I set about to stoke it back up. Just for the record a can should never land in a fire intact. They should actually splatter when they hit wood. As they have melted in mid air. Preferably they should vaporize on the way in, to form a hard dull gray finish on the nearby trees that is bug resistant.
Once I was satisfied with the fire I placed a sheet of plywood standing on edge on the side of the fire. I decided to hack a few eye holes in it. Next came a nose and a jagged mouth. All this time someone was encouraging me onward, I’m pretty sure it was my dad but I could be mistaken. The first Drunk-O-Lantern was born.
It had flames licking out all its orifices but it could still be better. So I grabbed a full, 1 pound propane tank and slipped it behind the ply wood. I was hoping the safety valve would be pointing out the mouth or nose and it would breathe a 15 foot long jet of blue-yellow flame.
It was turned the wrong way and the flame did not make it out the mouth, right then. I looked around and noticed that everyone was now hiding behind trees and trucks. Every one that is, except Jerry and me. So being a prudent young man I hid behind someone hiding behind a truck. We told Jerry to move but he replied “Seen this before, ain’t nothing to worry ‘bout.” In fact he had seen it several times and each time it was equally disappointing. But tonight, he was in for a treat.
Dad snapped a picture of the Drunk-O-Lantern and a few seconds later the safety valve said “The hell with this!” there was a very loud boom, complete with shock wave. Our fire was blown out and a churning 30 foot tall mushroom cloud of burning propane and ash was reaching skyward.
Jerry calmly got up and left. I think Dad said for the 3 millionth time “My God I’ve spawned an idiot!” and everyone checked themselves to make sure they were still intact. After we verified that our “boys” were still where they belonged and that in fact, our pants were, not full of poo, we began to dodge the hunks of fire wood that were raining down upon us. If you had looked up it would have reminded you of the closing credits from the “Buck Rogers” series in the early 80’s. We stomped those little suckers to death and the bigger pieces we put back into the now dark fire pit. Next we heard a tinny “clank” as the remnants of the propane cylinder returned to terra firma.
It took minimal coaxing to get the fire back in shape. The Drunk-O-Lantern was shot though. Where the face once was there was now a 3 foot wide hole. And I vowed never to drop a full, 1 pound, green, Ozark Trail, short squat, propane tank in a fire again.
We’ve been the Legion of Doom ever since, and we have the T-Shirts to prove it. Our Ranks have grown to include The Professionals. This works out pretty well, since they seem to have more sense than we do. And they can cook very well. They cook the grub and we don’t blow any one or anything up and provide comic relief. They also stop us from doing anything completely stupid like driving our trucks through the creek or Running Ranger Dan off the mountain. It work’s out pretty good.
So, this fall we’re about to gather to indulge in some more cold beverages, great food, and low brow humor. And just maybe a few stupid campfire tricks for old times sake.
I do have some full 1 pound Coleman propane tanks and some tall skinny blue ones laying around…Hmm
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Legion of Doom…for Beginners.
If this is your first trip with the LOD or you’re just a little confused as to what some of the things are, here is a short explanation of some of the more common things you will hear.
Drunk Shoes: A game similar to Horse Shoes with drinking penalties.
Holy Cow! Look At The Size Of That Moose: A name given to the 5 gallons of Long Island Ice Tea we mix when the keg runs dry.
The Professionals: An early name for Bob, Greg, Joe and Teddy. Given to them for their elaborate camping set up and cool camping toys.
The Beast: The name of a Blue 1987 Dodge Ramcharger that attempted to kill the owner and innocent bystanders on several occasions
Draxelflaffle: A word invented by Kevin. Loosely translated it means “Hold on a second, I’m puking.”
Fargelsnargel: A word invented by Pete in response to Draxelflaffle. Loosely translated it means "WTF did you say? Well two can play that game Skippy. So There!"
Naval Warfare: An adult beverage comprised mainly of Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum and Admiral Nelson Coconut Rum with a little Coke added for color. Drinking this could lead to shooting at the dark with an old SKS.
Cooler of Cirrhosis: A short lived new name for the 5 gallons of Long Island Iced Tea we plan to make on the Fall of ’09 trip. It quickly became unpopular after Carl referred to it as “COC”.
Duct tape: A strong adhesive tape used to trap people in state maintained outhouses. Also used to restrain f***tards to trees.
Ranger Dan: Refers to any Georgia Conservation Ranger with repressed homosexual tendencies. They are easily spotted by their complete lack of a sense of humor, their deep abiding love of trees, and a chronic case of Assholeism. To be avoided at all costs. The best defense against them is sarcasm, as they cannot comprehend it. They become confused, mumble and walk away.
Ol’ Moley: A woman who works at the local bait shop. Named for the huge mole on her face, she is a master of stating the obvious.
Sambuca: Pronounced SAAAAM BOOOO CAAAA! It is an adult beverage that will make the laws of physics obsolete. Drinking it causes the gravity within a 20 yard radius to become completely unstable. Gravity becomes weaker and stronger in areas causing those who imbibe in it to fall to the ground at random. Sober people can be affected by this so give anyone partaking of it a wide berth.
Jobu: The little idol Pedro Cerrano worshiped in the movie “Major League”. Also the one we blame for all bad weather, acts of random drunkenness, and general mayhem in the mountains. Jobu is a prick and campers need to remind him of this as often as possible.
Jimmy Buffett: the official Bard of the Legion of Doom.
The Four Horsemen: Bobby, Jerry, Kevin, and Pete. When these four gather apocalyptic events are sure to follow.
Unspoken guidelines of the Legion of Doom.
The following are a few common sense type things that should go without saying.
Never run out of beer.
Don’t piss off the old guys.
Please refrain from throwing propane cylinders in the fire.
Drink all your beer once you open it. To only drink half is disrespectful to the craftsmen who worked so hard to brew your frosty refreshment.
The Jimmy Buffett cover of the Grateful Dead’s song Uncle John’s Band is far superior to any others that may currently be recorded or could be recorded in the future. This is not open to debate...ever.
Assholes are not tolerated in camp.
When running from a bear, remember you only have to run faster than the slowest person. If you are the slowest, I hear playing dead works. Good luck with that.
Never invite hippies into camp. They will crap in the trail.
Always bring rain gear.
If after drinking 2 cases of beer, something seems like a good idea…it probably is not.
Don’t spit into the wind.
Don’t step on Superman’s cape.
Don’t mess around with Jim.
Drunk Shoes: A game similar to Horse Shoes with drinking penalties.
Holy Cow! Look At The Size Of That Moose: A name given to the 5 gallons of Long Island Ice Tea we mix when the keg runs dry.
The Professionals: An early name for Bob, Greg, Joe and Teddy. Given to them for their elaborate camping set up and cool camping toys.
The Beast: The name of a Blue 1987 Dodge Ramcharger that attempted to kill the owner and innocent bystanders on several occasions
Draxelflaffle: A word invented by Kevin. Loosely translated it means “Hold on a second, I’m puking.”
Fargelsnargel: A word invented by Pete in response to Draxelflaffle. Loosely translated it means "WTF did you say? Well two can play that game Skippy. So There!"
Naval Warfare: An adult beverage comprised mainly of Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum and Admiral Nelson Coconut Rum with a little Coke added for color. Drinking this could lead to shooting at the dark with an old SKS.
Cooler of Cirrhosis: A short lived new name for the 5 gallons of Long Island Iced Tea we plan to make on the Fall of ’09 trip. It quickly became unpopular after Carl referred to it as “COC”.
Duct tape: A strong adhesive tape used to trap people in state maintained outhouses. Also used to restrain f***tards to trees.
Ranger Dan: Refers to any Georgia Conservation Ranger with repressed homosexual tendencies. They are easily spotted by their complete lack of a sense of humor, their deep abiding love of trees, and a chronic case of Assholeism. To be avoided at all costs. The best defense against them is sarcasm, as they cannot comprehend it. They become confused, mumble and walk away.
Ol’ Moley: A woman who works at the local bait shop. Named for the huge mole on her face, she is a master of stating the obvious.
Sambuca: Pronounced SAAAAM BOOOO CAAAA! It is an adult beverage that will make the laws of physics obsolete. Drinking it causes the gravity within a 20 yard radius to become completely unstable. Gravity becomes weaker and stronger in areas causing those who imbibe in it to fall to the ground at random. Sober people can be affected by this so give anyone partaking of it a wide berth.
Jobu: The little idol Pedro Cerrano worshiped in the movie “Major League”. Also the one we blame for all bad weather, acts of random drunkenness, and general mayhem in the mountains. Jobu is a prick and campers need to remind him of this as often as possible.
Jimmy Buffett: the official Bard of the Legion of Doom.
The Four Horsemen: Bobby, Jerry, Kevin, and Pete. When these four gather apocalyptic events are sure to follow.
Unspoken guidelines of the Legion of Doom.
The following are a few common sense type things that should go without saying.
Never run out of beer.
Don’t piss off the old guys.
Please refrain from throwing propane cylinders in the fire.
Drink all your beer once you open it. To only drink half is disrespectful to the craftsmen who worked so hard to brew your frosty refreshment.
The Jimmy Buffett cover of the Grateful Dead’s song Uncle John’s Band is far superior to any others that may currently be recorded or could be recorded in the future. This is not open to debate...ever.
Assholes are not tolerated in camp.
When running from a bear, remember you only have to run faster than the slowest person. If you are the slowest, I hear playing dead works. Good luck with that.
Never invite hippies into camp. They will crap in the trail.
Always bring rain gear.
If after drinking 2 cases of beer, something seems like a good idea…it probably is not.
Don’t spit into the wind.
Don’t step on Superman’s cape.
Don’t mess around with Jim.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
75 Ways To Bite The Big One With The LOD
We seem to tempt fate every time we go camping. One of these days we’re going to be taken out in one of the following ways.
1. Raped by a bear while on a Death March to the waterfall.
2. Pulling a “Bon Scott” after 18 rounds of “Holy Cow! Look At The Size Of That Moose!”
3. Taken out by a Drunken Idiot’s 9mm while said Idiot is trying to remove clip.
4. Run Over by fellow camper while playing “Hide And Go Pass Out”
5. Set ablaze by a “Camp Fire Gone Bad”.
6. Innards dissolved by “Chili From Hell.”
7. Shot while trying to escape “Tree Molestation” charges from Ranger Dan.
8. Liver Liquefaction.
9. Broken Neck from “Creek Pool Diving.”
10. Stoned to death by college kids with a dead battery.
11. Freak “Air Mandolin” accident.
12. Crushed Skull while riding back from school bus on mountain bikes without helmets.
13. Inhaling new airborne strain of E. coli bacteria released by a burning poo bag.
14. Shooting off the mountain in a jeep during “Mr. P.C.’s Wild Ride”
15. Starvation while duct taped in a crapper.
16. Eaten alive by moles while sleeping.
17. Impaled by exploding mauls.
18. Frozen Paintball Enema.
19. Being the person who administered the Frozen Paintball Enema.
20. Not paying the person who administered the Frozen Paintball Enema.
21. Crushed while trying to unstick “The Beast”
22. Meat Poisoning.
23. Sepsis from Ruptured Stomach.
24. Quoting lines from “The Sound of Music.”
25. Killed by shrapnel from exploding universal joints.
26. “Hey Y’all Look at This!”
27. When Propane Is Not Your Friend.
28. Made into BBQ by “Ol’ Moley” behind the bait shop.
29. Annoyed to death by Freaky Neighbor Camper who was attacked by hornets while cutting firewood because he was not aware of his surroundings and felt like he needed to tell everyone within 8 miles of him of his terrible experience. (Intentionally a run on sentence. Should be followed by ...and one time...at band camp...)
30. Being a friend of the guy who cleared the Walnut Fork Campsite and made the “new” road to school bus.
31. Duct taped to tree and covered in raw bacon after sweeping Legionnaires with pistol while drunk. Aka…Bear Bait Stupidity Cure.
32. Fried biscuits cause your arteries to harden so quickly you look Pompeian.
33. While never proven, we’re pretty sure a hangover can be fatal. We’ve been close several times collectively.
34. Banged in the head by a canopy “falling the f*** off.”
35. Falling in the fire while exhaling.
36. Brained by a creeker.
37. Death by I.E.D.
38. Death while trying to I. an E.D.
39. Exploding Anal Vapors or Chili Induced Rapid Deceleration. (He survived the explosion, only to be impaled by a conifer upon reentry…)
40. Pissing Off the Old Guys.
41. Hitting it with a shovel – like a man.
42. Drunken chain sawin’ / fire wood scrounging.
43. Turtles turn out to be vicious, mean drunks.
44. Sudden Sobriety Syndrome (caused by running out of beer while right smack dab in the middle of a very good drunk.)
45. It rains so hard you just f****n’ die.
46. Suffocation in a tent caused by the depletion of oxygen from farts caused by rancid deer meat.
47. Being a Mormon.
48. Protective father slaughters several male progeny over a practical joke gone bad. I.e.: Q: Luke, what are the kids doin’ in the camper? A: They’re all layin’ naked under a blanket…
49. Spud gun misadventure.
50. You suddenly become so intelligent during a practical application of Cliff Clavin’s ‘Buffalo Theory’ that you spontaneously evolve into a higher life form.
51. Replacing “Ron White” with a “Dane Cook” CD.
52. Deliberately throwing Creekers.
53. Inviting Brokeback Mountain extras into camp.
54. Death by Hot Damn 100 Proof.
55. Drunk shoes rules gone bad (death by pushups, impaled while spinning around the stob, etc…)
56. Ex-Marine camper finally snaps during a Sambuca fueled flashback.
57. Sudden reversal of the Earth’s magnetic field causes all 43 of the razor sharp knives you have attached to your body to suddenly turn inward.
58. Draxlflaffled to death.
59. B.A.C. of 1.0 (a perfect score!)
60. Bacon Grease Camp Fire Flambé.
61. Hari-kari committed as the first notes of Dueling Banjo’s fills the air.
62. Shot by ricochet from drunken idiot attacking the dark with a Russian assault rifle.
63. Shipwrecked during “Naval Warfare.”
64. Cardiac arrest induced by Rubber Snake in Cooler.
65. Extolling the virtues of Opera in camp.
66. Calling the “Cooler of Cirrhosis” by the abbreviation “COC.”
67. Choking to death on your own tongue while snoring after a night of celebration.
68. Smothered to death by fellow camper while snoring after a night of celebration.
69. Mauled to death by a bear while attempting to ride it into town.
70. Frozen to death during freak blizzard.
71. Bitten on the bum by an extremely rare and venomous spider that only lives inside of state maintained outhouses.
72. Chugging a “Pepper Beer.”
73. Giving a Fellow camper a “Pepper Beer”
74. Impaled by flying driveshaft while following “The Beast” up Highway 441.
75. Struck dead by lightning after waving extended middle fingers in the air and yelling “F*** YOU JOBU!”
1. Raped by a bear while on a Death March to the waterfall.
2. Pulling a “Bon Scott” after 18 rounds of “Holy Cow! Look At The Size Of That Moose!”
3. Taken out by a Drunken Idiot’s 9mm while said Idiot is trying to remove clip.
4. Run Over by fellow camper while playing “Hide And Go Pass Out”
5. Set ablaze by a “Camp Fire Gone Bad”.
6. Innards dissolved by “Chili From Hell.”
7. Shot while trying to escape “Tree Molestation” charges from Ranger Dan.
8. Liver Liquefaction.
9. Broken Neck from “Creek Pool Diving.”
10. Stoned to death by college kids with a dead battery.
11. Freak “Air Mandolin” accident.
12. Crushed Skull while riding back from school bus on mountain bikes without helmets.
13. Inhaling new airborne strain of E. coli bacteria released by a burning poo bag.
14. Shooting off the mountain in a jeep during “Mr. P.C.’s Wild Ride”
15. Starvation while duct taped in a crapper.
16. Eaten alive by moles while sleeping.
17. Impaled by exploding mauls.
18. Frozen Paintball Enema.
19. Being the person who administered the Frozen Paintball Enema.
20. Not paying the person who administered the Frozen Paintball Enema.
21. Crushed while trying to unstick “The Beast”
22. Meat Poisoning.
23. Sepsis from Ruptured Stomach.
24. Quoting lines from “The Sound of Music.”
25. Killed by shrapnel from exploding universal joints.
26. “Hey Y’all Look at This!”
27. When Propane Is Not Your Friend.
28. Made into BBQ by “Ol’ Moley” behind the bait shop.
29. Annoyed to death by Freaky Neighbor Camper who was attacked by hornets while cutting firewood because he was not aware of his surroundings and felt like he needed to tell everyone within 8 miles of him of his terrible experience. (Intentionally a run on sentence. Should be followed by ...and one time...at band camp...)
30. Being a friend of the guy who cleared the Walnut Fork Campsite and made the “new” road to school bus.
31. Duct taped to tree and covered in raw bacon after sweeping Legionnaires with pistol while drunk. Aka…Bear Bait Stupidity Cure.
32. Fried biscuits cause your arteries to harden so quickly you look Pompeian.
33. While never proven, we’re pretty sure a hangover can be fatal. We’ve been close several times collectively.
34. Banged in the head by a canopy “falling the f*** off.”
35. Falling in the fire while exhaling.
36. Brained by a creeker.
37. Death by I.E.D.
38. Death while trying to I. an E.D.
39. Exploding Anal Vapors or Chili Induced Rapid Deceleration. (He survived the explosion, only to be impaled by a conifer upon reentry…)
40. Pissing Off the Old Guys.
41. Hitting it with a shovel – like a man.
42. Drunken chain sawin’ / fire wood scrounging.
43. Turtles turn out to be vicious, mean drunks.
44. Sudden Sobriety Syndrome (caused by running out of beer while right smack dab in the middle of a very good drunk.)
45. It rains so hard you just f****n’ die.
46. Suffocation in a tent caused by the depletion of oxygen from farts caused by rancid deer meat.
47. Being a Mormon.
48. Protective father slaughters several male progeny over a practical joke gone bad. I.e.: Q: Luke, what are the kids doin’ in the camper? A: They’re all layin’ naked under a blanket…
49. Spud gun misadventure.
50. You suddenly become so intelligent during a practical application of Cliff Clavin’s ‘Buffalo Theory’ that you spontaneously evolve into a higher life form.
51. Replacing “Ron White” with a “Dane Cook” CD.
52. Deliberately throwing Creekers.
53. Inviting Brokeback Mountain extras into camp.
54. Death by Hot Damn 100 Proof.
55. Drunk shoes rules gone bad (death by pushups, impaled while spinning around the stob, etc…)
56. Ex-Marine camper finally snaps during a Sambuca fueled flashback.
57. Sudden reversal of the Earth’s magnetic field causes all 43 of the razor sharp knives you have attached to your body to suddenly turn inward.
58. Draxlflaffled to death.
59. B.A.C. of 1.0 (a perfect score!)
60. Bacon Grease Camp Fire Flambé.
61. Hari-kari committed as the first notes of Dueling Banjo’s fills the air.
62. Shot by ricochet from drunken idiot attacking the dark with a Russian assault rifle.
63. Shipwrecked during “Naval Warfare.”
64. Cardiac arrest induced by Rubber Snake in Cooler.
65. Extolling the virtues of Opera in camp.
66. Calling the “Cooler of Cirrhosis” by the abbreviation “COC.”
67. Choking to death on your own tongue while snoring after a night of celebration.
68. Smothered to death by fellow camper while snoring after a night of celebration.
69. Mauled to death by a bear while attempting to ride it into town.
70. Frozen to death during freak blizzard.
71. Bitten on the bum by an extremely rare and venomous spider that only lives inside of state maintained outhouses.
72. Chugging a “Pepper Beer.”
73. Giving a Fellow camper a “Pepper Beer”
74. Impaled by flying driveshaft while following “The Beast” up Highway 441.
75. Struck dead by lightning after waving extended middle fingers in the air and yelling “F*** YOU JOBU!”
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Until Next Time.
Here he sits, looking out his lone window onto a green tinted parking lot. The memories of another lost weekend slowly fading in his head. And the reality of his dreary, daily grind setting in, closing around him like a vice.
“We are not our names.”
Images flitter past like late afternoon sunlight though the trees on a country road. The feel and smell of rain, and heavy smoke filled air. The tastes of great food and cold beer still linger on his tongue. The solidarity of fellowship with his friends and family still warms his heart. It all helps to soothe the raw nerves of the daily existence.
“We are not our problems.”
The sounds of laughter and merriment still resonate in his head. The clang as a horseshoe collides with a pin as yet another rule is made. The dull thud and sharp crack as maul meets wood to undo what nature has brought together still split the deafening silence. As he searches for a meaning to what he does each day.
“We are not our age.”
The sensation of water closing in around his nylon clad legs, as he creeps deeper into a rain swollen creek. Anticipating with quickened breath, the “tap…tap” at the end of the line as a fish takes the bait. The joy of pulling a slippery writhing trout from a cold pool as the relentless spring rain falls around him. It’s all an escape from everything, and yet nothing.
“We are not our hopes.”
Soon they will all be distant echoes of yet another weekend in the mountains. And when the smoke has cleared and the sounds fade into his subconscious he will bring them to life once again. On another weekend, on another mountain he and his brothers will once again shine like the sun.
“Sometimes it’s not enough to be numbered with the grains of sand on the beach and the stars in the sky.”
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Drunkshoes: A Primer.
Drunkshoes is a time honored LOD camping tradition. For those of you who are not familiar with the concept it's like Horseshoes and Quarters all rolled into one huge mess.
Teams of two men assemble on the field of battle. Beers in one hand and Horseshoes in the other. They taunt each other and scrape their feet like bulls getting ready to charge.
Once the bravado is at it's highest they fling a shoe at an iron stake sticking out of the ground. The closest shoe gets a point. But if you happen to land outside the box your team has to take a drink.
If for some reason the shoe goes two paces past the box in any direction the team has to chug one beer each. Once the beer is chugged play resumes.
In the event someone rings the stake they get 3 points and the person who threw it gets to make a rule. The rules stay in effect the entire duration of play. That's when the fun really begins.
After an extremely good round or 18 or Drunkshoes a player may feel the urge to cool down. This calls for a Creek Stomp. It is usually preceded by a head first dive into a shallow pool. During the Creek Stomp a player may fall, stumble, and or bust his ass. Turning blue is usually a side effect of the Creek Stomp. The water is around 50 degrees.
Following the Creek Stomp it is customary to eat an extremely good dinner and then chunk a propane cylinder in the nearest campfire for grins.
Monday, March 23, 2009
LOD Spring Freak Out 2009
Well it's time. Time for the annual pilgrimage to the hills. Looks like it is going to be a wet trip. So I think we need to mix things up a bit. Here's a few ideas.
Chug For The Title. This is a timed beer chug each morning. The Winner is referred to as "Lord Faggotor: King of Uranus" all day. The loser, will be referred to as "Beer Bitch" and gets to swim to the keg and refill every one's beer all day.
Chain Saw Juggling. We've all seen it done. But how drunk do you need to be to try it? A brave soul would supply the answer.
Horse Skeet. Think Drunkshoes with a twist. We all know the basic rules for Drunkshoes. Out of the box is a team drink. 2 paces outside the box is a creeker,and therefor, a team chug. I suggest the non throwing team member on each side, try to shoot the horseshoe mid flight with a paint ball gun. The receiving team cannot leave the two pace ring or it will result in a DQ. If you get hit by an errant paintball you may return fire during your throwing turn. Should be lots of fun and could also result in a new combat sport.
Game Warden Dunking*. The object of the game is to lure a Game Warden to the creek and give him a good dunking. Which would lead to the next game.
Escape And Evade*. This game involves running like hell through the woods from an angry, wet, and armed Game Warden. The object of this game is to not go to jail for dunking a Game Warden. Play at your own risk.
Fall On Your Ass. This is a new game we played last fall. It involves doing shots until you fall down laughing your butt off. Lots of fun. I think last time we had a three way tie for first place between Jerry, Pete, and Kevin. You get extra points for destroying your own camping equipment in the process. Points are deducted for trashing a fellow campers equipment, so be careful.
Hide And Go Pass Out. The title says it all. The question is, Will Jerry remain Grand Champion? Or will he pass the title? We'll find out Thursday!
*Extra points for Ranger Dan.
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